


Sands of Time

by ErtheChilde



Series: The Shortest Life [5]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time (2010)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-09 17:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3257540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErtheChilde/pseuds/ErtheChilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Rose land in fifth century Persia when the TARDIS alerts them to a potentially universe ending shift in the timelines.While trying to figure out who has been mucking with time, they meet Dastan, a prince of Persia who has done more than simply travel in time, and Tamina, the protector of a powerful relic, they discover an ancient alien threat has been trying to regain power. Doctor Who/Prince of Persia Crossover</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright the BBC, Disney and Ubisoft. No infringement on their respective copyrights is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author's own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books and graphic novels, are the sole creation of ErtheChilde and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. There may or may not be a curse in your future as well, so be warned. Remembered all things come in threes, good and bad. Plagiarizing is considered bad.
> 
>  **Warning:** _Spoilers_ : If it existed in any form of Doctor Who canon, whether television, novelization or graphic novel, it's probably going to be mentioned in here. That includes up to and including 12th/13th/Whatever Doctor Adventures. Likewise, material from the film Prince of Persia: Sands of Time may be used at any time in this fic.  
>  _No Beta_ : I am beta-less at the mo', so any mistakes are my own. I edit as I go, though, so it shouldn't be too bad.  
>  _Canadian-Writing-British_ :As a Canadian, I'm not all-knowing when it comes to British idioms, sayings or slang. I write what sounds right to my ears and when it doubt, I look things up on the Internet, so I might not always get it right. If I'm way off about something, please drop me a line and I'll correct it.
> 
>  **AN:** I sort of tweaked history a bit here for the sake of this fic (well, it’s Doctor Who, so it’s sort of expected) when trying to pinpoint the exact point in time POP happened. I decided to have Cyrus the Great go by the familiar name Sharaman in order to make the timelines work. This is a total fabrication on my part, and the Classicist in me is nagging me for not researching about ten different journal articles on Achaemenid Persia before writing this…but if I had done that, I would never have the time to actually write the story! So, creative licence is my excuse ^_^ Also: this is a long fic and a crossover, and so for the first three chapters, there will be long stretches of text that are not in Rose or the Doctor’s point of view – please don’t skip them, as they are important to the plot!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright the BBC, Disney and Ubisoft. No infringement on their respective copyrights is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author's own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books and graphic novels, are the sole creation of ErtheChilde and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. There may or may not be a curse in your future as well, so be warned. Remembered all things come in threes, good and bad. Plagiarizing is considered bad.  
>   
>  **Warning:** _Spoilers_ : If it existed in any form of Doctor Who canon, whether television, novelization or graphic novel, it's probably going to be mentioned in here. That includes up to and including 12th/13th/Whatever Doctor Adventures. Likewise, material from the film Prince of Persia: Sands of Time may be used at any time in this fic.  
>  _No Beta_ : I am beta-less at the mo', so any mistakes are my own. I edit as I go, though, so it shouldn't be too bad.  
>  _Canadian-Writing-British_ :As a Canadian, I'm not all-knowing when it comes to British idioms, sayings or slang. I write what sounds right to my ears and when it doubt, I look things up on the Internet, so I might not always get it right. If I'm way off about something, please drop me a line and I'll correct it.  
>   
> I sort of tweaked history a bit here for the sake of this fic (well, it’s Doctor Who, so it’s sort of expected) when trying to pinpoint the exact point in time POP happened. Because Disney obviously didn’t do their research, and set the story in the fifth century CE but were showing a map of the height of the Achaemenid era prior to Alexander the Great’s conquest, I decided to set this at the end of the reign of Cyrus the Great, who the Empire owes a lot of its territory to. I also decided that Cyrus is the king’s throne name, the official one put on all the monuments and stuff, while he goes by the familiar name Sharaman, just in order to make the timelines work. This is a total fabrication on my part, and the Classicist in me is nagging me for not researching about ten different journal articles on Achaemenid Persia before writing this…but if I had done that, I would never have the time to actually write the story! So, creative licence is my excuse ^_^ Also: this is a long fic and a crossover, and so for this particular chapter, there will be long stretches of text that are not in Rose or the Doctor’s point of view – please don’t skip them, as they are important to the plot!

**_ Sands of Time  
_ ** **_by ErtheChilde_ **

_‘Your arrogance is nearly as great as your ignorance.’_

**ONE**

‘So let me get this straight,’ Rose Tyler clarified. ‘You let a twelve-year-old – a kid you’ve never actually met – fly the TARDIS, but you won’t show me how?’

 ‘I never said that!’ the Doctor protested.

‘You so just did!’

‘First of all, it was an emergency – I didn’t have much of a choice,’ he scowled and crossed his arms. ‘Stuck in 1985, remember? No one wants to be stuck in 1985, Rose, not unless they look like Molly Ringwald or that bloke from the duck film.’

‘…Duck film?’

‘Before your time, maybe. Had to do with hockey instead of football, so probably Canadian,’ he allowed with a shrug. ‘Second of all, Sally wasn’t flying the TARDIS – she just pressed the reset button by the phone and it homed in on my watch –’

‘– which you’re gonna show me how to do, right?’ Rose prompted, and was summarily ignored.

‘– and _third_ of all, the TARDIS doesn’t _fly_ ,’ he finished with the slightest curl of his lips. ‘Disappears and reappears, remember?’

‘No, I forgot,’ Rose deadpanned. ‘You know, seeing as how my human brains are so small and useless compared to your superior Time Lord ones.’

‘Everyone’s brains are small and useless compared to mine.’

Rose rolled her eyes.

With anyone else, the entire conversation would have been taken as a joke or the result of some rather strong liquor, but she knew the Doctor was completely serious. He was also telling the truth, despite being exceedingly rude about it.

It was three weeks now that they had known each other, and in that short time they had become quite close. For all his brusqueness, the Doctor was rather protective of her, something she secretly enjoyed. And although she relied on him for pretty much everything these days – it was his ship that she lived on, after all, and he was her only guide to all the amazing places they travelled – it wasn’t an unfair dynamic. The Doctor relied on her just as much, if only in a different way.

At the moment, she was the only other living creature in the universe that he had to support him. Other than the TARDIS, of course.

It didn’t mean that their friendship didn’t have their ups and downs, but those were few and far between. 

Her twitting him over his recent escapade with a little girl named Sally Sparrow was just a blip. She was too keen to get back to their life of adventure to be annoyed for keeps.

They were just getting on their way after visiting Rose’s home time – although “visiting” was a loose term. The Doctor had put up with half a day of watching _EastEnders_ reruns while Rose did her laundry, and then swanned off before he got get dragged into “another bit of domestic inanity” with her lot.

Which, really, made him sound every inch his nine hundred years and she’d told him so.

He’d harrumphed and sulked at that, but as she left the TARDIS he’d told her to call him as soon as she wanted him to come get her and promised he would check the landing dates thrice to avoid another twelve-hour-twelve-month muck up.

For her part, Rose had ended up spending her time in the flat curled around a hot water bottle, listening to Jackie relate the latest gossip around the estate and chatting with Shareen on the phone.

When she was left to her own devices, instead of spending her time reading the latest magazine issues her mother had been collecting for her, she tracked down an old first aid manual from the back of her closet and set to memorizing it. She had no doubt a few of those skills might one day come in handy, and she very much wanted to be ready in case of the emergencies that inevitably came from travelling with the Doctor. She was still annoyed with herself about forgetting how to perform CPR on their last escapade.

Mickey had come round the first day, ostensibly after hearing the TARDIS, and once he determined the Doctor wasn’t around, he’d made an adorable nuisance of himself by sitting and watching telly with her instead of going down to the pub as he usually did. 

She’d tried to protest about him making a fuss, but the last time he’d brought her piping hot chips and the really good chocolate, and she hadn’t been able to say no.

It wasn’t three days before her feet started to itch once more for the adventurous life she’d stumbled into, and so she’d anxiously called the Doctor so that they could start travelling again. Almost before he picked up the phone, she heard the TARDIS wailing into being out on the Estate.

She hadn’t been on board two minutes before he started regaling her with what he’d been up to in her absence.

‘Dunno what’s more unbelievable, though,’ Rose remarked now. ‘Sword fighting aliens on a balcony in Istanbul, or you going to Devon in the first place. Isn’t that, like, the most boring place ever?’

‘Haven’t you learned anything since we met? There’s no such thing as a boring place. Well, except Calufrax. Or possibly Alberta. Most exciting thing to happen there is getting mauled by a cow.’

‘I’d pay money to see that,’ she smirked.

‘That your choice in destination today, then?’ he challenged.

‘I dunno, what d’you think?’ ****

Rose’s preference for letting the Doctor choose their destinations stemmed from the abject glee he seemed to get from it. It was a rare thing for his smile to be genuine and for his eyes to flash with delight instead of sadness. She was only ever guaranteed to see it when they embarked on a new adventure, and so she only rarely made suggestions to him.

Secretly, though, she was afraid of suggesting something boring or stupid. It wasn’t like she had paid attention in history class, and most of the events of note she was familiar with came from whatever was in her mum’s gossip rags.

It was something she was trying to change, of course. 

She’d been struggling through _The Mystery of Edwin Drood_ for almost two weeks now, and though the language was often complex and boring, she could see why the Doctor enjoyed Dickens. And after their visit to the trenches of the First World War to see a football match, the Doctor had showed her to the TARDIS library and a very battered copy of Robert Graves _The_ _Christmas Truce._ She devoured it, amazed by the fact that she had actually witnessed the events someone else had written about.

Travelling with the Doctor was amazing, opening up doors for her that she never would have imagined for herself. And yet…

And yet, in spite of all the fun they had and the places they went, and how happy she was, Rose couldn’t help but wonder why the Doctor had chosen her. Aside from something he’d once said to her when they visited the Roman Republic about seeing how much she wanted to travel with him, she couldn’t come up with anything that made sense.

She wasn’t particularly educated and hadn’t heard of most of the places or people he tended to suggest visiting. Despite everything they had done together, at the back of mind she always felt a constant, niggling worry that he would one day come to his senses about dragging some ‘stupid ape’ alone with him and drop her at home.

_Spunk and a bronze in gymnastics can only get you so far_ , she thought grimly.

‘Could go visit –’

But whatever the Doctor was going to suggest was cut off by a sudden jarring of the entire console room, and Rose found herself thrown to the unforgiving grating. A blaring, sonorous clang like a church bell filled the air, and Rose had to cover her ears.

‘What the hell is that?’ she yelled above the noise.

‘Something bad,’ the Doctor yelled back, jumping back and forth around the console, flipping switches and pumping levers and swirling dials with a kind of franticness she’d never seen.

‘Are we crashing?’

‘Don’t be stupid, that bell almost never rings when I crash,’ he snapped, tapping something onto the view screen and reaching for some kind of wire. ‘That’s the sound of the universe beginning to fray at the edges!’

‘Oh, is that all?!’

‘Shut up and hold down that lever!’

Rose did as she was told, concentrating on helping the Doctor do whatever it was he did to keep them from falling out of the sky.

_Space…Vortex…whatever_ , she thought, puffing in effort as the lever tried to escape her grasp and holding on for dear life.

The TARDIS finally came to a shaking stop, the room shuddering into darknes before some kind of auxiliary light source came on. Along with the glow from the Time Rotor, it cast eerie shadows across their faces.

As soon as she was sure the ship wasn’t about to start shaking again, Rose asked, ‘What just happened?’

The Doctor fussed about with something near the view screen. ‘The TARDIS just made an emergency landing – but she’s not telling me why.’

‘Well _where’d_ she land us then?’

‘Fifth century Persia, by the looks of it,’ the Doctor replied immediately as Rose came over to glance over his shoulder. Outside, she could make out a lot of sand and a large walled city in the distance; some coloured tents and stalls were set up just outside of it. ‘Or near enough.’

‘Doesn’t look like anything’s wrong.’

‘Either we’ve landed before the catalyst, or we were lucky and there’s a long enough transition period that we have time to fix things.’

‘Really colourful – oh, does this mean I get to dress up?’

‘Not really a priority right now,’ the Doctor said. ‘Just gonna do a quick scan…’

‘If we’re in such a hurry that I can’t get dressed up, we might as well just go out and ask directions,’ Rose pointed out, a bit exasperated.

‘Just give me a minute –’

Rose rolled her eyes, already on her way out of the TARDIS. ‘What is it with men and never asking for directions?’

‘Oh, yes, that’s right, fantastic – just walk out of the TARDIS without even bothering to check the situation first, are you?’ the Doctor called from behind her, and she heard the sound of him dropping the mallet on the floor in his haste to follow her. ‘Remember what happened last time you did that?’

‘Nope.’

‘Exactly!’ he declared, as though that won him the argument. ‘You stepped off a bloody kilometer high tree!’

‘Always wanted to try base jumping,’ she returned, deliberately keeping her tone light in the face of his disapproval. 

‘You also almost got poisoned by one of the locals you managed to annoy.’

‘Then I won’t accept any drinks from strangers.’

‘Best not accept anything to drink, period,’ the Doctor cautioned her as they came up to one of the brightly coloured tents. ‘They don’t exactly have safe water at this point in time, if you get my meaning.’

‘Right,’ Rose said, wrinkling her nose. ‘Hey, why’s there a market out here and not inside the city?’

‘Oh, there is a market in the city. These are just the people that haven’t been given permission to enter the city at the moment. Some city’s at this time were free game, but others were select in who they allowed in.’

‘So this is one of ‘em?’

‘Looks like. Here, let me find out.’

He flagged down a man in a burnoose and carrying a pouch that swished with liquid.

‘Forgive my interruption, friend, but my companion and I have just come off a long journey – tell me, where have we arrived?’

‘You stand outside the holy city of Alamut, traveller.’

‘Fantastic. Now tell me, how long has it been since the reign of the Great King Nabonassar of Babylon?’

‘Over two hundred years,’ the man said, bemused.

‘Doesn’t help,’ the Doctor answered. ‘How ‘bout this? When did the last Median king die?’

‘It has been twenty-one years since Astyages succumbed to death.’

‘Twenty-one, you say?’

‘Indeed.’

‘Thanks,’ he said, motioning for Rose to come with him, a frown on his face.

She raised an eyebrow. ‘So? What’s that tell you?’

‘It tells me that it’s 529 BC.’

‘That’s it?’

‘For now.’

‘Everything seems okay,’ Rose pointed out. There weren’t any people running about in a panicked frenzy, at any rate.

‘Could’ve been a false alarm,’ the Doctor agreed. ‘Glitch in the warning systems…’ He didn’t look happy about that, but shrugged. ‘Oh, well, good excuse to explore.’

‘Should we split up to cover more ground?’

‘Not a good idea – Persia’s not a good place for a woman to wander around with other women, unless you’re royal – and you’re already gonna attract attention for that streetlamp you call hair.’

‘Well, if you’d let me change…’

They wander off together and headed towards the walled city. As they neared it, the Doctor started telling her about where they were. 

‘Early days of the Achaemenid Empire,’ the Doctor explained. ‘Widely considered to be the greatest era for Persia – the empire didn’t even come to an end until Alexander the Great waltzed in. And even then, it just continued under another name until it was conquered again.’

They halted at the gate of the city, where two sentries told them only people on official business could be let inside. The city was recovering from a recent siege by the Persian army and they didn’t want any strangers…or the trouble that came with them.

Once again the Doctor’s psychic paper made an appearance, and they found themselves waved through.

Upon getting inside, though, the doctor frowned.

‘This is wrong,’ the Doctor said quietly, looking around the packed streets filled with market-goers and soldiers.

‘Why?’

‘The Persians shouldn’t be here,’ he told her. ‘Not now. There was a battle here, yes, but the treaty that stopped the fighting also ensured the Persians would take their army and leave. Also, if I’ve got the year right, Cyrus the Great should’ve just died. Meaning they should be back in their capital, mourning.'

He stopped a passing Alamutian. ‘Forgive me ignorance, but my friend and I have just arrived in town. Why is the Persian army still here? Shouldn’t they have gone back to Avrat?’

‘Small chance of that, while their king resides here,’ the man snorted. ‘It seems old Sharaman has decided our jewel of a city is to grace his crown after all.’

He wandered off.

‘Sharaman,’ the Doctor repeated tonelessly.

‘Friend of yours?’ Rose asked.

‘No,’ he answered. ‘Sharaman was the personal name of Cyrus the Great.’

‘The one who’s supposed to be dead?!’

‘Yes. He’s supposed to be dead at Syr Darya and the entire land in mourning for his passing,’ he told her. ‘His son is supposed to be ruling as Cambysis the II right now.’

‘And that’s not what’s happened?’

‘Exactly. It’s not an all-out temporal paradox yet, but it’s causing enough weak spots that the whole Web of Time will eventually destabilize in about – hm, twenty days and a quarter.’

‘Can’t be more specific, could you?’

‘Didn’t want to come off as pretentious.’

‘Oh, never that.’

‘So what are we supposed to do to make it _not_ destabilize.’

‘I’ll let you know once we figure out how serious all of it is,’ he told her. Then he frowned, his jaw clenching a bit. ‘Once, this sort of thing would’ve been dealt with before it could even happen. But that’s when there were Time Lords to watch it.’ 

His expression cleared again.

‘Oh, well, seeing as there’s just me, we’ll have to make do.’

But something about the more immediate situation nagged at Rose. Once she realized what it was she wondered if she should ask the Doctor about it. He might think she her question was stupid, or maybe too human for his notice.

But she needed to know.’

‘Doctor…if all this is happening cos this king is alive…does that mean we have to, er…kill him?’

The Doctor shot her a shrewd look, and though she expected a retort or some comment about the violence of humans, instead he seemed to be deciding something.

‘It’s a tricky thing, dealing in life and death,’ he finally told her in a heavy voice. ‘You’ve seen it yourself, Rose. People die all the time around us. Can’t save everyone. And those that you do save…how many people died because they lived or will die because they live? Does my influence in changing events – events that could end up indirectly killing someone a generation from now – does it make me less culpable than if I were to hold a gun to their head now and pull the trigger?’

‘I…’

‘Don’t try to answer that. Questions like that require thought, as well as acceptance once you arrive by them. Just know right now that I would never set out on a mission just to kill someone. But we might have to set events in motion that could lead to that outcome if the timelines call for it. There is a man alive today – a great man, whose name still means something in your time – who is not meant to be. The easiest resolution to all of it would be for him to die.’ He met her gaze levelly for a second, and then the ancient alien quality disappeared. He grinned. ‘But then again, time can now be rewritten. If I can manage it just right, maybe it’s just a matter of tricking the timelines a bit.’

‘Yeah?’

‘We’ll see. At any rate, right now we just need to do some investigating,’ he determined. ‘Maybe get a first-hand account of how, and why, events came to be this way.’

He nodded in the direction of the palatial structure towering high above every other building.

‘Which means we’re going to visit the palace?’

‘Which means we’re going to visit the palace.’

Rose sighed. ‘Wish I’d worn my good trainers.’

· ΘΣ ·

_Lion of Persia, my arse,_ Prince Dastan thought as he shifted uncomfortably on his low stool. _More like royal trained monkey, these days_.

It was hot in the audience chamber, and far too densely packed to be comfortable. Robed clerks and advisors gathered in the middle of the room, while guards lined the exits and walls. The entire place smelled of scented oil, sweat and fear. The latter was definitely warranted, considering the ruthless way in which King Sharaman had been dealing with his subjects in the past few weeks, but the presence of it annoyed him all the same. 

Dastan had not been born to sit in council with the royal classes. Although a twist of good fortune had seen the king adopt him as a child, it didn’t make him more suited to rubbing shoulders with the bureaucrats. He was chiefly conscious of the element of _otherness_ and – according to some – uncouthness that he introduced to the room.

Unlike the perfumed, fastidiously groomed men that made up his father’s council of advisors, Dastan was made of a rougher quality. His skin was sunburnt from long hours spent in training, and his hands rough from wielding a sword. He was never one for sporting the rigorously curled hair of the upper classes, and he was more likely to sheer off his beard with the edge of a dagger than submit to the grooming attentions of a palace servant. He didn’t have patience for such frippery, and even being at this meeting was severely testing his patience.

Still, his father had requested his presence in conclave, and in light of recent events, it was best to appease him.

Sharaman was a man in his later years, the grey in his hair and beard doing nothing to hide the hard weariness in his dark eyes. Although he was seated on the only chair in the room – a gilded, silk draped piece provided by their hosts – and dressed in finery, he still had the look of a man that had once been fierce in battle. Age had handicapped him in some ways, though, and while he could still ride, he could no longer lead the charge. 

None of this had affected his mind, though, or his iron will. The past weeks had shown just how much of his unwavering nature remained.

The audience chamber where they sat was one of the rooms allocated to the visiting Persian dignitaries, along with several opulent guest apartments. The sheer excess in the Alamutian hospitality was likely tongue-in-cheek gesture of forgiveness for the Persian’s misguided invasion of the city several weeks back, and everyone in the room knew it.

The Persians, headed by Dastan’s brothers Tus and Garsiv, had attacked the city against their father’s wishes based on information given to them by their uncle, Nizam. Although not in agreement about the decision, Dastan had done his duty and helped to take the city, only to discover that Nizam was a traitor. His adopted uncle had intended to use the invasion of Alamut as a smokescreen for a plan to murder his brother. Dastan had discovered the treachery, and with the help of his brothers, dealt with Nizam.

In the wake of this discovery, Tus had made a formal apology to the ruler of Alamut and started negotiations for peace that wouldn’t result in too much embarrassment for either party.

He hadn’t managed to pull it off fast enough, however.

Their father, away on military campaign in Syr Darya, had heard of his sons’ disobedience in attacking Alamut and come there himself in order to rebuke them for it – only to discover news of his brother’s betrayal.

Disillusioned by what he viewed as rampant betrayal everywhere, Sharaman had banished his natural sons from his sight and taken back sole control of Persia. He permitted Dastan to stay, reasoning that perhaps his adopted son would be more obedient, for he owed him everything.

‘Evidently blood corrupts just as easily as anything other element,’ the king had told him one night, sounding weary and old as he did. ‘It is only the character of a man that matters, I see that now. Tus is too indecisive to be a good king, and Garsiv too quick to act. But you, Dastan…you are more balance than either, and more loyal both. Your presence by my side is a balm.’ 

Dastan wasn’t exactly sure what his father had been talking about, but at the moment he was entertaining the rather irreverent thought that maybe being banished wouldn’t have been too dad. Counsel-sitting was not his preferred past time, and since his father took up residence in Alamut, it seemed all he was concerned with doing.

He had thrown himself into negotiations with Princess Tamina, who ruled Alamut in place of her aging grandfather, intending to sue for peace with Alamut under his own terms. It was said he hoped to ensure nothing like this could ever happen again, but Dastan knew a fit of temper when he saw it. There had even been talk of disinheriting Tus and Garsiv for their actions.

_I wish he had thought through his own actions_ , Dastan thought ruefully. By sending Tus away, Sharaman had invalidated any agreements made by him with the ruler of Alamut, including Dastan’s own engagement to Tamina.

It was for this reason that such diplomatic conclaves were still required.

Today’s conclave was winding down, but it was only a matter of time before the Alamutians were due to arrive. The only upside of that one was that Dastan would have a chance to see Tamina, even if it was only from the side-lines.

‘There is one last thing I wish to address,’ his king said suddenly, causing his ears to perk up. ‘As my eldest sons have shamed their father, and so themselves, with the actions that led us here, the stability of my kingdom is at stake.’

Everyone in the room held their breath. It was the first time in weeks that the possible fate of Tus and Garsiv was being discussed, and fortunes could rise or fall based on what the king decided to do.

‘Were anything to happen to me during this time, any enemy could take advantage of that and try to destroy all that I have built since the fall of the Medians,’ Sharaman continued. ‘As such, I intend for the son of my heart, if not my blood, to take the mantle of heir during this uncertain time.’

There was an almost collective intake of breath from the other men in the room, and even the guards who were meant to be no more than lifeless fixtures, seemed amazed by what they had heard.

_Alright, didn’t see that one coming_ , Dastan thought, completely floored by his father’s words.

‘Majesty,’ one of the more wizened advisors began, bowing his head respectively, ‘this unworthy servant would never dream to question your decisions, for you speak with the words of the gods…however, caution may be in order.’

‘It is a difficult position to be in, of course, but perhaps we must consult with the augers?’ another suggested. ‘It is your bloodline that was chosen by the gods, and…and however admirable all who have met your son Dastan know his qualities to be…were a commoner to take the throne…’

They were all looking at him, some of them looking resentful – as if this had been his idea – while others seemed beseeching. Dastan didn’t need to think very hard about what those looks or the advisors words meant.

_Civil war_ , Dastan thought grimly. _Exactly the kind of thing I’ve been trying to keep from happening._

With his brothers and their armies gone, he was the only one left to represent their interests. How he answered this sudden and unexpected decision from his father, would determine whether he was banished from the court as well – or whether one of his brother’s loyal followers tried to put a knife in his back.

_Actually, that last bit might happen no matter what I do._

Gathering his thoughts, he took a breath and addressed is father.

‘Father, this is a great honour that you would do for me…and no doubt I would still have much to learn from your wisdom, as I’ve done all my life,’ he started cautiously. ‘But I would be dishonouring my brother Tus if I were to take his birth right, as well as that of Garsiv. I know they’ve displeased you in the past, but I believe them to be good men who will make their amends to you once they truly understand the error of their ways.’

_Not bad for my first diplomatic answer, I think_ , Dastan thought. _Hopefully I’m not about to be thrown out of here, though._

The advisors all seemed to be holding their breath as well.

Sharaman offered his son a calculating look, and then something close to a smile threatened beneath his beard.

‘Your loyalty is commendable, my son, and perhaps your best quality, even if respecting authority is not,’ Sharaman said. ‘And it is possible you are right. Perhaps. But that time may be far off, and the throne could fall into question if I have no heir. You have shown yourself to be a man of honour so many times over, and your part in exposing my own brother’s treachery did not go unnoticed. If any man were fit to follow in my footsteps, even temporarily, it is you. Even my virtuous advisors must see that as well.’

They all rushed to agree with him of course, but Dastan could tell at least half of them weren’t entirely convinced.

_Count me as one of those_ , he thought.

‘I think this is an important matter and should not be decided when there’s so little time before the Alamutians arrive,’ he deflected carefully. ‘Also, I’ve neglected the city’s quite a while today. As they are our sole protection since Tus and Garsiv left with their men, I ought to check on them. It will…give me time to consider your suggestion, and all that entails.’

Sharaman nodded. ‘It would concern me if you didn’t give the matter thought.’

He made a dismissing gesture with his hand, and Dastan stood up.

Offering his father a short bow, he left the room and kept his face very carefully blank. He had to figure out some kind of plan to mend the fences between his father and his brothers, before it really did lead to Civil War.

How could his father think that this was a good idea? Ignore what his brothers would come to believe about him – there were some days that he thought Garsiv might dearly love the idea of cleaving his head from his body, no matter that they had eaten from the same dish and slept in the same bed since childhood – the Persian aristocracy would revolt. The idea of being ruled by a common, former street rat? Even in the interim they wouldn’t tolerate it.

He turned a corner and headed into a hallway that showed a panorama of the city beneath the palace. This place would not be the first destroyed if it came to a power struggle.

Dastan had watched over the years how conniving many of them were, and how they orchestrated each other’s rises and falls based on rumour and the exchange of gold. There was little anyone could do if they disliked the king, he was chosen by the gods, but anyone else was fair game. 

He had no intention of being the reason the empire fell, even if his father – 

He tensed.

Someone was following him.

Likely they had been doing so since he left the counsel and his thoughts had been too convoluted to notice.

He gave no sign of noticing now.

People walked openly here, servants and royals alike, and anyone that had cause to be sneaking about couldn’t be doing it for altruistic reasons. If whoever it was had followed him from the council chamber, perhaps they knew what he had been offered…and intended to deal with him before he came an issue.

Blatant assassination attempts weren’t unknown in Persia, but he’d be damned if it would happen to him.

He turned down another corridor, one he knew was less travelled than most and less likely to be noticed by the guards that occasionally roamed the place on watch. 

There was a dagger in his vest, one he kept on his person despite the law that no one could have a weapon on them while in the presence of the king. It was a habit born of his early life on the street, and one nothing could break him of.

Slipping into the shadows of an alcove, he waited for whoever followed him to come after him. There was a pause in the tread of whoever it was, and then a hooded figure slowly stepped into the corridor.

The person paused, likely confused that Dastan wasn’t in front of them anymore, and he took that opportunity to grab his pursuer and drag him into the shadows.

Dagger at his stalker’s throat, any interrogating questions died on his lips, when he recognized the black eyes that positively burned at him.

‘Is it custom in your land to kill anyone who desires conversation with you, or is that just reserved for a former betrothed?’ Princess Tamina quipped, not even flinching at the cold metal against her.

Dastan felt his mouth twitch in response to that.

For all that she was known far and wide for her beauty and her wisdom, what many did not know about the Alamutian princess was that she had a wicked tongue and an even more indomitable spirit. She had spent her life putting on a brave face for others, so that it was only in the rarest of circumstance that she lost control.

It was a trait he greatly admired, almost as much as he admired Tamina herself.

That being said, her presence here was a bit problematic.

‘You’re not supposed to be out here,’ he told her softly.

‘Out here in the hallways of my own palace?’ she challenged. ‘Or out here with you, prince?’

She looked coy, obviously knowing what he had meant and ignoring it completely. He had to fight the urge to wipe that look off her face himself, if only to safeguard her reputation now that they were no longer betrothed. 

Theirs had been a brief engagement following the accidental and not-quite invasion of Alamut. Instead of rushing ahead with a wedding, though, they had chosen to delay their nuptials long enough for those who died in the battle to be given the proper rites. It had also seemed prudent to allow the Alamutians and some of the Persians adjust to the idea of their union, and have time to suitably prepare for the festivities. 

Dastan had also wanted to wait for Sharaman’s presence in order to bless the union. Not only was it Dastan’s first marriage, but – on his side of things, anyhow – he genuinely cared for Tamina. His father had dearly loved both his deceased wives and had been happy, and Dastan had believed a blessing from him would ensure a strong union.

He and Tamina had spent the time awaiting the king’s arrival getting to know one another, and in a short span grown to care for each other. Possibly it was due to that other life that only he remembered, and which Tamina only suspected.

For Dastan was more than just the hero of the Persian army and the man responsible for staying discovering Nizam’s treachery. What no one else knew was that he had done much more than that. He had lived an entire different life, one which had taken a more gruesome turn following the taking of Alamut than what was happening now. With the help of a magic dagger and the help of Tamina herself in that other life, he had discovered Nizam’s plans to become king and stopped him. He had even managed to turn back time to save his brothers and father’s lives, as well as the existence of the entire world.

He had told Tamina the tale when he returned the dagger to her, as her family was its Guardian, and it was this gesture that had caused him to trust him in the beginning. It had led to them becoming closer as time went on, as well.

However, when Sharaman arrived, the possible union between them was broken, as all other decisions made by Tus. It was questionable now whether they would ever marry, especially if the king was against it. As such, Tamina was not supposed to be around him without an escort.

‘You know what I mean,’ he told her pointedly. 

‘I will be meeting with your father and his advisors soon, and it was imperative I speak to you,’ she told him, apropos of nothing. ‘I think there’s something going on among the other Guardians.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m not quite sure,’ she admitted. ‘People aren’t behaving as themselves, and there is an…undercurrent of some sort. It has been building since Alamut was first attacked.’

‘And you have no idea what it is?’ he asked. ‘What do you want me to do about it?’

‘You are one of the handful of people I feel I can trust right now,’ she told him. ‘If something should happen…I may need you to guard the Dagger for a time.’

Dastan tensed.

He knew what kind of temptation and burden she was asking him to carry, and so did she. 

‘That’s a bit much, isn’t it?’ he asked. ‘You don’t even know if there’s anything really happening.’

‘I feel something is not right,’ she told him earnestly. ‘And if I am right, then whatever is about to happen could affect more than just the Persians or the Alamutians. It could affect the entire world.’

It was something he knew to be true as well, but he had to keep the politics of it all in consideration.

‘You forget, princess, I’ve already experienced what it feels like to be hunted down like a traitor by my own family,’ he told her quietly. ‘If I were to take the Dagger and there really was something going on with the other Guardians, they would hunt me down and convince my father to do the same in the name of peace. I know how important the Dagger is, but I won’t do that until we know for sure that warrants it.’

Tamina drew away, looking disappointed. ‘You don’t trust my judgement on this?’

‘I do…but we still need to be careful,’ Dastan told her. ‘You’ve told me your suspicions…now go to you meeting. I’ll keep an eye out as well, and if there is anything…you and I will deal with it. I promise.’

‘Very well,’ the princess said, stepping farther away and pulling her hood back up. ‘But I only hope that your priorities don’t end up dooming us all.’

And with that she disappeared.

Dastan shook his head.

_Impatient woman_ , he thought, _and with a tongue sharper than that Dagger of hers._

He waited for her steps to fade before he stepped out of the alcove, intent on going in the other direction.

He stopped when he realized he wasn’t alone.

Standing several feet away with a look of disapproval was one of Tamina’s people. Dastan dimly recognized him as Shahnaz Varka, a cousin of hers, if he recalled correctly.

He was also the man who had been tasked with getting the Dagger out of Alamut during the battle. Dastan had defeated him and taken the dagger, thus setting of his adventure through time.

‘You are not permitted to be with the princess alone,’ the bearded man scowled.

‘Thought I’d proven already that I’m a perfect gentleman around the princess,’ Dastan deflected easily, moving to pass the other man.

A hand grabbed him roughly and turned him around.

‘You will stay away from her, _commoner_ ,’ the man growled. ‘Your interference in matters that don’t concern you is now over. If you value your life, you will stay away.’

And he disappeared in the other direction.

‘Well, that wasn’t very smart of you,’ Dastan said once he was alone. ‘Because now I _have_ to find out what’s going on.’

· P ·

 


	2. Chapter Two

**_ Sands of Time  
_ ** **_by ErtheChilde_ **

_‘Your arrogance is nearly as great as your ignorance.’_

**TWO**

Tamina was uneasy.

As Princess of Alamut, and the primary Guardian of the Dagger of Time, her fate should not be so dependent on the will and whims of others. And yet it was exactly this position she found herself in as she sat in counsel with the dignitaries from Persia and her own advisors.

King Sharman had the look about him as a man who preferred to smile and, given some of the stories Dastan had told him about the man who had plucked him from the streets to raise as his own, she wished he were. As it was, he was currently sitting across the room from her, surrounded by his advisors, and smiling seemed to be the furthest thing from his mind.

Understandable, considering the upheaval that his family had gone through, but much of that was due to his own poor judgement. 

In her own view as a ruler, there had been no true reason for him to banish his two heirs from his sight – and that was even ignoring the fact that his decision had directly affected her own future. 

It was true, she had only accepted the proposed arrangement of marrying Dastan because he had returned the Dagger of Time to her. However, in the weeks since then she had come to know the adopted prince much better. There was an inexplicable connection to him – possibly an echo of the timeline he had told her about in secret – and a sense that while he was man of strength and fortune, he had no desire for power. Any union between them would not automatically take the power she had inherited from her aging grandfather and pass it to some faceless Persian overlord. 

When news that Sharaman had dissolved the engagement as a decision made by his unwise eldest son, Tamina had been angry – yet not for all the same reasons as her family. The cousins and uncles that made up her advisors had seen it as an insult, and a sign that perhaps the Persians weren’t truly ready for peace. The Median rulers of Persia that had preceded Sharaman had been known for their ignorance of the culture and traditions of those they conquered, was this king to turn to their way of thinking in his old age?

And then beyond all the politics of their two peoples, there was the matter of the unrest among the Guardians. What she had confided in Dastan was true, and spoken to the best of her abilities.

She truly didn’t know what was happening amongst her own, and her uncles and cousins seemed to not wish her any distress. Shahnaz, her cousins and oldest friend, seemed intent on ensuring that she remain focussed on the matter of relations with the Persian.

‘You’re probably the most intelligent living creature in that room,’ he had told her wryly when the first meetings began days before. ‘If you can’t manage to bring peace between our two peoples, the cause was never meant to be. No doubt you will have the king eating out of your hand before the week is done.’

She wished she was as confident as her cousin.

Across from her, Sharaman gestured for silence among his murmuring advisors, and Tamina did the same. She gave him a nod, indicating he should speak first, even though by dint of this council taking place in her city, it should have been her right. 

It was always best to see what one’s opponent had planned before unveiling one’s own intentions.

The Persian king didn’t waste time on flattery or words of welcome.

‘I had spoken earlier to my son about the possibility of him accepting the title of my heir,’ he began. ‘Naturally, he had some misgivings. And through his words, and the words of my advisors, I see that perhaps I was too focussed the ills of my own heart than the larger picture. If you would forgive this old man’s folly, Your Highness.’

‘Your state of mind is understandable, Your Majesty,’ Tamina told him grandiosely. ‘A betrayal from so close within your ranks is a hurt that will not be easily remedied. My people and I grieve with you, and remind you that there is no ill-will from the people of Alamut for the misunderstanding caused by your late brother.’

_So long as you take your army and leave my city in peace,_ she didn’t add.

‘And I thank you for that understanding,’ Sharaman bowed his head in acknowledgement. ‘On that note, there are matters to discuss. A marriage was proposed following the unfortunate attack that injured and killed so many of both our people, and I think perhaps that solution would be more beneficial than initially thought.’

Tamina’s heart rose.

‘But my son, so hurried in making amends for his folly, offered too low a prize for the harm he caused,’ Sharaman went gravely. ‘It is true that peace between the kingdoms of Persia is needed, but they should be from a line that has already proven itself strong and wise. And so I believe the strongest solution for both our kingdoms, if you are as amenable to peace as I am, is for you to marry not a prince, but a king – ’

Her understanding ground to a halt as he said that, and she felt as though she had been turned to stone.

‘ – and beget a new line of sons, whose resoluteness will rival even the hardiness of the seed of Kosh,’ the king went on. ‘With the might of conquerors from my blood, and the protection of the gods from yours, our children will one day rule this combined land of ours not only prudently, but piously –’

Tamina felt her mouth part in surprise, all of her carefully constructed responses for anything the Persian king might say breaking like sandglass before they could reach her mouth. Behind her, her advisors began whispering madly amongst each other, and she wished they wouldn’t because it was hard enough to concentrate on Sharaman’s words instead of what her family thought of this new arrangement. 

‘ – do not let this aged countenance turn your heart against me,’ he implored. ‘I know that for one as young and beautiful as you, I must seem as ancient as the desert from whence this city was carved. But I am still young at heart, and I still have enough life in me to father strong sons.’

The idea distressed her.

She wanted peace for Alamut and a guarantee that some foreign ruler wouldn’t jeopardize the Sandglass, but on a selfish and personal level she had no love for the Persian king. She was wary of his age, and not just due to superficial reasons. 

From a practical standpoint, if they married and she bore his children, she did not see him living long enough to see them weaned. And once he was dead, she and her children might end up at the center of a struggle for the control of the Persian throne. Though Dastan had told her his brother Tus was reasonable, she had seen for herself the impulsive and battle readiness of his brother Garsiv. She could foresee that he would be one who might kill her and any of her children in order to secure his brother’s, and thus his, place in the succession.

And of course, after all the practical concerns, there was the very blatant reality that she had been coming to terms with in the past weeks: that she had come to care for Prince Dastan, and had actually been hoping that a marriage between them would be forthcoming. 

Realizing that an answer was expected, Tamina schooled herself into some facsimile of calm and replied, ‘The solution you would suggest is one of gravity and worth some consideration, Your Majesty. But I have many duties, and I cannot make such a decision until I have conferred with Alamut’s king, who was too ill to join this conclave, as well as with my advisors.’

‘By all means,’ Sharaman said, gesturing to her people. He made no move to leave the room with his entourage, and Tamina realized he intended for this matter to be closed today.

She offered him an insubstantial smiled, and turned her attention to her councillors. 

‘This solution is ill-advised,’ one of her older uncle said quietly. ‘A marriage to one of the Persian royals was one thing when the bridegroom was barely a prince, but the king himself? He will demand control over this city and all her secrets.’

‘This is true,’ Tamina said, relieved that someone else saw that. ‘As Guardian of the Dagger – anointed by the gods – I cannot cede my power to as power-hungry a ruler as this king.’

‘This was always a consideration,’ Shahnaz argued in a low voice. ‘We know nothing of this Dastan, save for what you have told us of his character. He might be just as intent on power as the man who raised him. It is inevitable that at some point the title of Guardian will pass from you.’

‘Perhaps, but that title is meant to go to any daughter I have,’ Tamina argued. ‘There are no others that are part of the direct line who are able to properly guard the dagger.’

Shahnaz shook his head. ‘My eldest, Rapasha, is but an infant, but I can guard the dagger in her stead until she reaches the age.’

‘It is my duty to protect the dagger!’

‘And what better way can you do that than to ensure the mightiest empire in the world has an interest in its protection?’ Shahnaz persuaded. 

Tamina could see that the rest of her uncles and cousins were nodding their heads, obviously finding the idea of the marriage transfer acceptable. While she was ruler as decreed by her grandfather, she knew she had no choice but to go along with the guidance of her advisors. Across the room, Sharaman and his ilk seemed expectant.

She felt ill, and – beyond that – more and more certain that something was not quite right about how events were proceeding. She couldn’t let on, though.

Either she agreed to this new arrangement, sealing her fate, or she could disagree and risk war – and her own demise by whatever malcontent faction was circulating through her own people.

She held up a hand to silence her still whispering counsellors, and addressed the king.

‘If I were to accept this proposal that Your Majesty has offered, what guarantee to I have of my safety and the safety of any of my children?’ she asked. ‘Mightier kings than those of Persia have had their wives and children slaughtered by those who would ensure their own power.’

Sharaman gave her an appreciative look, obviously having not expected her to address this so candidly. 

‘My son Dastan is judicious, and should the gods see fit to take me soon, he will be both a wise regent for any of our children and a fierce protector, for his interests are for the good of Persia and not his own,’ the king told her. ‘You and your children’s lives will be safe in his hands.’

Tamina was silent another long moment, trying to think of any other way than to accept this. Bending neck to invaders, even as a temporary solution, did not sit well with her, but it seemed there wasn’t much else she could do without any support.

‘Very well, Majesty,’ she said quietly. ‘I agree to you your proposal.’

He looked pleased and moved forward, taking her hennaed hand and kissing the back of it.

‘Then it is settled,’ he said, looking pleased. ‘We will celebrate this union in Avrat in fifteen days time.’

‘I am sure your advisors and my own wish to discuss the exact details of this proposed union,’ she said quietly, ‘But I believe my own guidance will be found in prayer. Excuse me, I must pray.’

‘By all means, go to your contemplations,’ he said, dismissing her.

It left a sour taste in her mouth, leaving her fate to the machinations of others, but she could tell her family wanted her out of the way while they negotiated. Best not put up a fight or whatever untrustworthy members of her train existed would suspect she wasn’t as ignorant as they liked.

She couldn’t afford poisoned wine right now, when all of existence and time might be at risk. 

Without paying much attention to her surroundings, she headed to the High Temple where the Dagger had been locked away after Dastan returned it. She needed to think.

It wasn’t long in her journey that she discovered she was being followed, however before she could think of leading them on a false trail, the person fell into step with her.

‘Just act as if I’m one of your escorts,’ Dastan’s familiar voice whispered.

She shot him an annoyed glance – and was surprised to see that he was dressed as one of the Alamutian attendants from the council chamber. Had he been there the entire time?

‘I’m surprised your father didn’t notice you in there,’ she told him conversationally.

‘Father rarely looks the servants in the eye,’ Dastan replied easily. ‘Something that seems true for you and your family as well.’

She shot him an annoyed look, and once they reached the chamber turned to glare at him.

‘If you were there, you know what’s just been decided, don’t you?’

‘You were rather quick to accept that proposal,’ he answered, and she thought she could hear anger in his voice despite his calmness.

‘Jealous?’ she prompted.

‘You could have stalled,’ he retorted. ‘The right of succession belongs to Tus. Any new union between my father and another in an effort to interrupt that succession could plunge both of our peoples into war!’

‘I was stalling for time!’ she hissed, feeling a little embarrassed at having misinterpreted his anger. He only cared for the status of his brother, not her, it seemed. ‘The important matter here isn’t some paltry marriage, and since you spurned my request for help when I came to you, I had little choice!’

Dastan shifted uncomfortably. ‘It…might be possible I was hasty.’

That brought her up short. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You might be right about something going on – and I think it’s safe to say what it is,’ he answered. ‘Your people are trying to get you out of the way, or at least reduce the power you wield.’

She blinked, having not expected that. ‘And what would that gain anyone?’

‘I was paying attention in that meeting, princess, and Shahnaz was awful quick to volunteer his services as regent. And the rest of your relatives, even those who initially questioned the decision, were quick to follow his lead.’

‘Shahnaz is one of my most trusted advisors,’ she pointed out. ‘He has guided my grandfather and myself well for years. Besides, he couldn’t do anything even if he were regent. Custom dictates that only a female of the bloodline is permitted to hold or even touch the Dagger unless they are removing it to safety. The same goes for the Sandglass.’

‘And I’m telling you, I think your suspicions about someone trying to gain access to both those things is right – it’s just coming from your own people.’

Tamina shook her head. ‘That’s not possible…’

But the words were doubtful even to her ears.

Their gazes met and held for several long moments, and Tamina’s heart thudded in realization that his suspicions made more sense than she liked.

‘Tell me, Dastan,’ she began hoarsely. ‘Where does your loyalty lie, then, if you are coming to me now and telling me all of this.’

He looked like he was struggling with something internally, before taking a step forward. 

‘I sacrificed you once to protect my family and Persia…possibly all of existence,’ he told her earnestly. ‘I don’t need to tell you how completely wrong it went, so…this time I choose you. If that means taking you from Alamut and going on the run…well, it wouldn’t be the first time.’

Tamina felt her cheeks flush at his words, and had to bite her tongue from accepting his offer.

As much as she wanted to, she didn’t share the same memories as Dastan had, and she still had a duty to Alamut.

‘I have to protect the interests of my people,’ she told him sadly, ‘And marriage seems to be the best way to do that. But if what you say is true…the Dagger must be protected, even from my own.’

Before he could answer, the turned and hurried to the pedestal where the object was kept. Removing it, she hurried back to him and pressed it into his hands.

‘Will you take it?’ she begged. ‘I can’t chance its existence becoming known to your father once we marry. I know you Persians – you consider your wives’ property yours upon union. ‘If I know it’s safe, I can concentrate on figuring out what is happening with the other Guardians.’

‘Tamina –’

‘I know you understand how to use the Dagger,’ she went on, reaching into her shirt and extracting the extra vial of sand there. ‘Take this, just in case. And if I am unable to figure out the truth of things by the time of my intended nuptials, you must hide the Dagger. Bring it somewhere untraceable, far from the Sandglass, and keep it forever separated.’ 

His face was inscrutable as he took the Dagger and the sand, and as he turned to leave he seemed to be biting his tongue.

As he reached the doorway, however, he suddenly turned back around and strode back to her.

‘Dast –’

Her words were cut off as he swept her up in one arm and crushed his lips to her. She felt, rather than heard, the surprised squeak she emitted before he pulled away again.

‘I might not get the chance later, if you’re married,’ he told her with a grim smile, and then disappeared.

Tamina swallowed, slowly bringing her fingers to her still tingling lips. Even during their brief engagement he had never made any advances toward her, remaining polite and gentlemanly.

For just a second she wished he had been less so.

The irreverent nature of her thoughts were interrupted with the sudden arrival of Shahnaz.

‘Was that the Persian prince?’ he demanded in lieu of a greeting.

‘Cousin, what are you – ?’

‘Why was he in here?’

‘He was just coming to say goodbye to me,’ Tamina said, a bit taken aback by her cousin’s fury. ‘He is headed to Avrat to bring them news of the wedding, that preparations can be made.’

This was a lie, but she wasn’t about to tell Shahnaz that.

‘You know better than to be alone with him with no escort,’ her cousin lectured. ‘Especially now that you’ve accepted King Sharaman’s proposal it’s even less acceptable. Really, you ought to –’ His diatribe suddenly cut short, he let out a sound like his throat had suddenly closed up. ‘Where is the Dagger?’

Tamina forced herself to whirl around in surprise, affecting confusion and surprise. 

She knew if she admitted that she had given the Dagger to an outsider of her own free will, her life would be forfeit. The sanctity of the Guardians was ironclad, and for the keeper of the Dagger to give it up warranted the worst of death penalties.

‘That can’t be!’ she gasped, faking shock and outrage. ‘It was just here, I ensured its presence here myself!’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I think it would be rather obvious if I had it on my person,’ she snapped. ‘It’s not possible, it has to be here –’

‘Prince Dastan!’ Shahnaz hissed in realization. ‘He must have taken it.’

‘He wouldn’t – he was the one who returned it to us in the first place –!’

‘You have been distracted by your feelings for him,’ her cousin told her bluntly. ‘Stay here, I will alert the guard. We will find him, princess. And I hope when we do, you have reclaimed enough of your senses to deal with him as any thief of the Dagger would be dealt with.’

And he strode away.

Tamina clenched a fist, praying that Dastan had moved quickly. She hadn’t expected her plan to start unravelling so fast, but one thing was for sure: she had very little time to fix whatever was happening within the Guardians.

· P ·

The psychic paper wasn’t working.

The two guards by the gate to the palace were staring at the Doctor, clearly unimpressed with his request that he and Rose be allowed to pass. He had heard rumours of the mental prowess of some of the ancient human peoples – had even heard that the Alamutians were known for the wisdom and purported spiritual powers, but he hadn’t expected to come up against rudimentary psychic training so early in Earth’s history.

‘Ah, well, looks like you’ve passed my little test, to see if you’re worthy,’ the Doctor chatted amicably, putting away the billfold and trying to come up with another story to get them in the palace. ‘I’d heard how smart you Alamutians were – said so, didn’t I, Rose? – and you’ve proved it. Saw through my illusion very well.’

‘I grew up on the streets of Avrat, stranger, I know a con when I see one,’ the guard retorted coolly. ‘And you must be foreign, if you can’t tell an Alamutian from a Persian.’

‘Ah, that explains it,’ the Doctor said, more to Rose than the guards. ‘Common sense types. The paper almost never works on them.’

Rose frowned. ‘If you’re Persian, why are you guarding the Alamutian palace?’

‘Guarding the king, I expect,’ the Doctor answered for the guards. ‘Extra security detail for while he’s here, isn’t that right gentlemen? Which works out fantastic, cos we’ve urgent business with the King. And possibly the ruler of Alamut. In that order.’

‘That’s nice for you, but you’re not getting past here,’ the taller guard replied. ‘Only people on official business are allowed inside while the sovereigns discuss peace. And that doesn’t include a second-rate foreign magus and his little bit on the side.’

‘Oi!’ Rose snapped.

‘Oi!’ the Doctor seconded. ‘Second-rate?’ 

Rose shot him a dirty look. ‘Really?’

‘I’ll have you know I’m known all across the known world,’ the Doctor bristled. ‘And Rose isn’t my…she’s my apprentice.’

They were giving him knowing looks he didn’t like.

‘Alright, stranger, if you’re so powerful, why don’t you show us some magic that actually works?’ the taller of the guards smirked.

‘I would, but I don’t want to burn your eyes out with the magnificence of it.’

‘Why don’t you just use your, er, magic wand?’ Rose muttered in a quiet aside. ‘I mean, they’re standing in front of a door…’

‘The wand doesn’t work on wood,’ he replied, ‘And any of the other settings that currently work wouldn’t be all that impressive.’

‘The blinky-light thing would be enough.’

‘S’not a “blinky-light”, Rose, it’s a –’

‘Nice as it is to have entertainment while I’m on duty, you two need to leave before I stop finding all this funny,’ the shorter guard interrupted. ‘Go on, stranger, take your _apprentice_ and put her to her best use.’

At that point, the Doctor might well have just let Rose unleash her understandable and no doubt impressive rage upon the hapless sentries, had it not been for a sudden commotion from inside the walls of the palace – crashing and yelling. 

_‘To arms!’_

_‘Catch him!’_

_‘Thief!’_

The guards by the gate tensed, their attention shifting between what was happening inside and the Doctor and Rose in front of them.

Thinking quickly, the Doctor drummed up his most commanding voice and ordered, ‘Swords up, lads, and follow me!’

And just as the soldiers in Albion hospital had done during the Slitheen invasion, the men who had just been stonewalling them followed him with no more than a confused look and a shrug.

They hurried through the entrance into the palace courtyard, the guards looking around in search of whatever was going on. 

Rose came to a stop beside him, and panted,’ How’d you do that?’

‘Some people really do exist just to follow orders,’ he replied, trying to listen for any more indication of where the trouble was coming from. ‘Sometimes all you need is to sound like you’re in charge and people fall in line.’

The tiny, eensy bit of telepathic command that he’d used this time might’ve had something to do with that bit, but he wasn’t telling her that.

The courtyard was standard fair for the time period – wide, open space with a grand fountain in the middle and bordered by lushly cultivated trees within the walled confines. Smooth sandstone walkways lined the ground, the same colour as the outer façade of the palace. Like the surrounding palisade, the outer boundary of the palace was two storeys high; far behind it, each layer of the palace seemed to add a storey until the shape resembled nothing more than a fancy wedding cake.

The lower levels of this part of the palace was a corridor shadowed with arches. A wide, slanting staircase led to the second level, which was more of an open corridor, hemmed in with a balcony and the occasional column for support or decoration. At the top of it all, an almost pagoda style roof, where – 

A figure in the distance appeared to be fleeing across the roof, pursued by a cluster of guards. Where the first figure was moving nimbly across the tricky tiles, his pursuer didn’t seem to be able to pull off the same feat. One of the closest ones stepped just wrong and tumbled off the other side of the roof and out of sight.

‘Oh my God!’ Rose gasped.

From the other end of the roof, where the man was obviously attempting to reach, more guards appeared, blocking his escape.

He barely paused, before sliding down the side of the roof leading into the courtyard. Unlike the poor guard who had been chasing him, though, he obviously intended to do this, because he grasped hold of the edge with a strong grip and swung himself into the open corridor.

There was no time for him to bask in the victory of that particular feat, however, because instantly more guards were spilling out of the rooms beyond the balcony, yelling at him and demanding he surrender.

_Somehow I don’t think that’s about to happen_ , the Doctor thought.

The fleeing man pulled out a sword, just managed to catch the blow from the foremost guard before it sliced into his shoulder. He successfully blocked a few more swings, stepping back with each new one, and then suddenly kicked his leg out and tripped his attack up. The other guards behind him tried to surge forward, and instead tripped over their fallen comrade.

‘He’s a bit John McClane, isn’t he?’ Rose asked admiringly as the man trying to escape took off again, made it to the stairs and ran down the solid railing. The momentum moved him forward too quickly, and as he left the railing, he tucked and rolled mid-air before landing on his feet.

‘Oh, now, that was just showing off,’ the Doctor complained.

As he started to head for the main entrance, even more guards began to swarm him. The two that had been with the Doctor and Rose made a break for it, going after the fugitive, and the Doctor reached out protectively for Rose. He knew she wasn’t a stranger to violence, but this time period sometimes lent itself to somewhat gruesome – 

‘What the hell?’ he bit out as the two sentries, instead of going after the man trying to escape, threw themselves at his pursuers and began to fight them off.

‘What just happened?’ Rose cried over the din, but the Doctor didn’t have time to ruminate on the sudden shift in allegiances. Because what happened an instant later was much more confusing.

As the young man made a beeline for where the Doctor and Rose stood near the domed entrance, one of the guards on the balcony readied a bow and took aim. Before the words of warning burst from the Doctor’s mouth, the arrow went flying and buried itself in the young man’s back, steps away from them.

Rose let out a light _oh!_ of surprise and dismay, as thought she had been the one to be hit by the arrow.

The man’s eyes went wide in shock as he stumbled and fell forward, reaching blindly for something the Doctor couldn’t see. His pursuers were closing in, and he thought that that was the end of it – 

Until time itself suddenly skittered and shifted.

Everything froze for a moment, stagnant, and then the Doctor felt the unmistakable sensation of a timeline cutting off abruptly – almost like someone was taking a pair of sheers to his Achilles tendon, only instead of a muscle being cut it was his sense of time. Pain exploded in his head, and he felt a minor, possible timeline suddenly rearing up, taking the place of the one that had just died so suddenly.

The pain hadn’t subsided as the world started moving again, only it didn’t pick up where it had left off. As expected, he found himself watching the same scene he had witnessed a minute ago.

As the young man made a beeline for where the Doctor and Rose stood near the domed entrance, one of the guards on the balcony readied a bow and took aim. The Doctor didn’t have the will to warn the man this time, but it needn’t have mattered if he did. The arrow went flying, it’s target the man’s back, but just then the fugitive ducked and rolled out of its path.

The path which was headed very obviously for Rose.

His arm snapped out and he pulled Rose to him, out of the arrow’s way. He felt the displacement of the air as it rushed past him. As soon as he heard it hit the wall, he shoved Rose out of the way of any other arrows and looked back at the pandemonium of the courtyard. ‘Did you see that?’

‘You saving me from that arrow?’ she gasped. ‘Yeah, a bit more than saw. Let’s not do that again.’

The Doctor shook his head in denial – he should have known, he was the only one aware of time resetting itself. Rose didn’t have the senses to pick up on that.

Another group of guards had materialized – and really, did they come out of some kind of machine? There were so many of them! – and engaged the man in a confusing bit of swordplay.

There was something going on – more than a simple change to the timelines, and the Doctor knew that that young man had something to do with it. He wasn’t sure how, but he was sure nonetheless.

Which meant he had to decide whether to help the guards catch him and hand him over to whoever wanted him stopped, or help him escape and ask the hard questions later.

It wasn’t difficult to decide to go with the running man.

If he wanted to question him, he could only do that if the bloke didn’t have his head cut off. The Doctor knew only too well the types of punishment they meted out in this time period, and he was very much in favour of a resolution that didn’t end with any limbs cut off.

‘Move, we’ve got to help our friend there,’ he ordered Rose, springing into action.

‘Since when’s he our friend?’ she shot back, but despite her confusion she followed him.

‘See that chain over there, the one holding the gate up?’ he barked, yanking the sonic from his pocket and keying in the proper settings.

‘Yeah?’

He shoved the device into her hands. ‘When I say, aim this at it and activate it. Then leg it as fast as you can out of here.’

‘But –’

‘Be right behind you,’ he cut her off and pushed her toward the door, before heading for the scuffle.

A fallen guard’s sword flew out of his hand, and the Doctor leaned down the catch it before it hit the ground. He also grabbed the rather voluminous length of the man’s robes and looped it out in front of him, catching someone’s wrist as he did so. Ducking under another’s sword, he caught the blade with his own, then looped the material around an errant foot.

After several moments of complicated swooping and out of arms and legs and swords, at least six of the guards were tangled tightly in confusing mess. The two Persian sentries from before were keeping the rest of the guards at bay, and so as the fugitive recovered himself, the Doctor said, ‘Hello, I’m the Doctor – specialist in trouble and great escapes. Who are you then?’

Rather than respond, however, the young man turned tail and ran for the entrance way. 

‘Well, that’s rude,’ the Doctor remarked, taking off after him. The fugitive was just clearing Rose, when the Doctor shouted, ‘Rose, now!’

As ordered, she aimed the sonic at the winch holding the chain, which suddenly broke, and stumbled into a run out of the postern. The heavy gate trundled down to the ground as she hurried through it.

The Doctor only just managed to clear it as it thudded to the floor behind him.

‘Thought we couldn’t use the sonic,’ Rose puffed as they hurried down through the streets after their new friend.

‘It’s not a toy, it’s only for emergencies – sweet-talking dim-witted, questionably loyal watchmen wasn’t an emergency!’

‘You’re so making that up!’

‘Less talking, more running!’

There was quite a bit of shouting happening behind him, probably guards trying to haul the gate back up, and from the swishing noise in the background, he supposed that more arrows were being shot after them.

With the still nameless possible temporal meddler keeping ahead of them by several yards, they managed to get out of the palace environs and slip through the crowded, twisting streets of Alamut. Whoever he was appeared much more comfortable in these settings and also seemed rather adept at seemingly disappearing into the shadows.

If the Doctor hadn’t been a lot more observant than most humans, he would have completely lost track of him. As it was, he was just barely able to keep up with the fugitive and make sure Rose was following him at the same time.

Side street after side street flew past, as well as market stalls and caravans that the Doctor occasionally had to leap over or dodge to one side of. From Rose’s inarticulate cursing behind him, he figured she was only just managed to do the same.

The alleys began to narrow, heading into what the Doctor judged to be the dodgier part of town based on the increase in stench and general lack of cleanliness. As he turned yet another corner, he found himself facing the point of the sword, held by the young man.

‘Why are you following me?’ he demanded.

‘Oh, that’s nice, no “thanks for saving my life”?’ the Doctor quipped.

‘Definitely rude,’ Rose added.

‘Thank you,’ he said, glancing past the Doctor to make sure no guards had followed him and Rose as he put his weapon away. ‘Now go away. I do not wish to harm you, but I will if you slow me down any more.’

Satisfied they had escaped the scrutiny of any authorities, he headed off through another series of side streets and alleys.

‘To hell with that!’ the Doctor snapped, following him. ‘I want to know what you did back there and how you did it.’

‘No idea what you’re talking about,’ the man retorted, refusing to look back at them as they came out into a more open area of the backstreets. 

‘You were shot in the back, you reset time, and now you’re fine again!’

The man’s eyes widened incrementally at that, and then narrowed in suspicion. 

‘I didn’t see anything like that,’ Rose remarked.

‘Time Lord – I notice these things,’ the Doctor snapped, eyes not leaving the stranger’s face as he demanded, ‘Are you the one who’s been playing with time then?’

The weapon was out again, this time kissing the side of the Doctor’s throat. Rose made a move, but the Doctor reached back and held her at arm’s length, not wanting that blade anywhere near her. ‘Who are you? Not one of the Guardians, or you wouldn’t have helped me out of there. But you know more than you should.’

‘Sums me up, yeah,’ the Doctor agreed, not flinching at the blade at his neck though Rose’s grip on his arm tightened. ‘And you do too, it seems. Well, let me tell you now, unless you put back whatever you changed, the world’s gonna end – and not pleasantly.’

‘I don’t know how you know what’s going on, but I’m not changing anything back. Not to the way it was. This life is far from anything I would have chosen for myself, but it is still a better one than what would have happened without my intervention,’ he told them resolutely. ‘You speak of the world ending? If I had not done as I did, it would be the universe and all of existence that ended.’

He and the Doctor exchanged looks, and the Doctor could immediately tell that the young man was speaking the truth. After all, only someone who had faced the possibility of the universe collapsing could have quite that look in their eyes.

The young man seemed to see something in the Doctor as well, because he nodded once and drew away from him, pushing roughly past him.

‘I have to get out of the city,’ he said. ‘You need to leave me to it.’

‘I can’t.’

The young man sighed. ‘Thought you’d say that.’

Before the Doctor could react, the stranger had yanked Rose close to him, thick arm around her throat in chokehold. 

‘You just made a big mistake,’ the Doctor told him, brandishing the sonic. He couldn’t exactly do anything with it, but the stranger wasn’t to know that.

‘Not letting me go my own way was yours,’ his opponent said. ‘I’m sorry, but I learned this lesson the hard way. If I don’t escape from this city, the consequences are bigger than one life.’

The Doctor glared at the stranger, silently holding in check the furious wrath that simmered within him, first at the thought that this ape would dare lecture him on life-or-death consequences, and that he was doing it while holding Rose hostage.

‘Yeah, trust me mate, you’ve no idea.’

· ΘΣ ·

 

 

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **AN** : So, I noticed that Dastan leans a bit towards the OOC end of the spectrum, but I’m trying to blend the shoddy would-be-British version of him played in the movie with the more intense, wordsy one from the game. Admittedly, it’s been a loooooong time since I played the game, but that was the impression I had when I played it. Also, more wordsy and intense probably fits better for historical accuracy. So nyah.

**_ Sands of Time  
_ ** **_by ErtheChilde_ **

_‘Your arrogance is nearly as great as your ignorance.’_

**THREE**

‘Er…’scuse me?’

Rose only just managed to choke the words out from the crook of the stranger’s rather muscular arm.

‘Just like to point out, you’re…er…both really concerned with protecting stuff,’ she tried again, drawing a rattling breath – and was it her imagination, or was the stranger relaxing his grip on her _just_ a bit? ‘It’s just…is there an outside chance you’re…both trying to do the same thing?’

The Doctor’s expression didn’t become less threatening, and he didn’t lower the sonic, but he bit out, ‘Suppose anything’s possible.’

‘Even so, it’s not much incentive for me,’ the man holding her ground out. ‘I know nothing of who you are or why you’re even here.’

‘I can help with that!’ Rose gasped, aiming for nonchalance. ‘I’m Rose, that’s the Doctor – we save the world a lot.’

The Doctor’s eyes flicked to her, and she offered him a weak smile, hoping to convey she was fine. The man holding her didn’t seem to have any immediate plans to harm her. The Doctor didn’t exactly smile back, but the thunderous expression faded back into put-upon annoyance, and he took the opening she’d given him.

‘Especially when it comes to stupid apes mucking about with timelines when they shouldn’t be,’ he added, eying her captor pointedly. 

‘Insulting, not helping,’ Rose informed him. 

‘Since when is stating the truth insulting?’

‘Since it’s you.’

‘Neither of you seem to realize I still have her hostage,’ the stranger said, sounding incredulous – and possibly a tiny bit amused.

‘Happens too often for me to really be fazed anymore,’ the Doctor answered. ‘Most jeopardy friendly creature I’ve ever met –’

The man holding Rose let out an annoyed exclamation. ‘You are wasting my time! Now step aside, and no harm will come to her.’

‘Time is very much something we don’t have to waste,’ the Doctor agreed. ‘Here’s an idea – I’ll drop my, er, device…if you let Rose go.’

‘Tell us what’s going on and we can help you,’ Rose implored. ‘If what you’re doing is so important, wouldn’t it help to have people on your side?’

For several long seconds no one moved, and then finally she felt the arm around her throat relax. Soon after that, it disappeared completely.

She turned to face the man, massaging her throat, and could feel the Doctor materialize mere inches from her side. 

‘What’s your name?’ she asked, briefly reaching out to squeeze the Doctor’s hand to assure him she was alright. He squeezed back, eyes focussed like lasers on the other man.

‘Dastan,’ he ground out. ‘And I don’t have time to talk. I must get out of this city. If I am caught with…if I am caught, the consequences could be dire.’

‘I can help with that,’ the Doctor said. ‘I’ve, er, transportation you can use. And a safe place to sit and figure all this out.’

‘Unless you have a way of getting me across the desert by nightfall, I will take my chances stealing a horse,’ he said, nodding at one such animal tethered at the far end of the wide alley.

‘As a matter of fact –’

It was at that point, however, that time ran out for them. 

‘There they are!’ someone yelled, and suddenly the alley was swarming with the same guards that the three of them had just escaped in the palace.

As sword-wielding, armour clad men poured in, Rose felt the Doctor grab hold of her, moving her out of the way just as a sword glanced past her. He pulled her into a small alcove out of the path of the guards, and ordered, ‘Don’t move!’

‘What about you?’ she cried.

‘Know my way around a sword fight! You don’t!’ 

And then he was out in the fray, dodging blades and stepping around guards determined to bring him down. All the while, he seemed to be trying to convince them to stop.

‘Doct – !’

She suddenly found something pressed into her hand – a dagger of some sort – and heard Dastan bark, ‘Do _not_ drop that!’

And then he too disappeared into the confusing fray, which was fast becoming encumbered by dust and faceless moving bodies. 

Not for the first time Rose wished she had taken some kind of self-defence class as a child, or something that would make her useful to the Doctor in a fight. 

Her heart thudded in her chest as she tightened her grip on whatever it was Dastan had given her.

At first she thought had just handed her a means of protecting herself in case any of the guards decided to come after her with bad intent. But when she looked up desperately at the Doctor, who had just knocked down a guard with a well-placed elbow, and his attention flickered briefly in her direction, she realized it was more.

It was just a second, but she saw the way his eyes focussed on the dagger instead of her. She also saw the frown that was completely unrelated to the man who suddenly charged him, because he stepped out of his path with the ease of someone who didn’t think this fight was worth any kind of bother to him at all.

He hadn’t even picked up a sword yet, although whether that was down to cockiness or the fact he just didn’t like weapons, she didn’t know. But he seemed very aware of what she now held in her hand.

Whatever Dastan had given her, it was more than just a dagger, and it was important somehow. She couldn’t just drop it and make a run for it.

Of course, if that were true, why had Dastan suddenly disappeared without it?

She realized then that she couldn’t find the dark-haired man anywhere and that the dust-up in front of her seemed to be occurring only between the Doctor and the countless guards that had squeezed themselves into the alley way. And through it all, he remained unarmed and shouting over the din, trying to convince the guards to stop and listen to him.

He was going to get himself killed, she realized, and took a step forward with her only thought being to _somehow_ help him.

She didn’t even know how it happened.

One minute she was standing in the middle of the alley, watching everything unfold, and then suddenly she found herself lifted into the air. There was a thundering sound all around her, and harsh breathing, and the swirl of sand in her eyes, and then she was being lifted up.

Hoisted, really, and rather uncomfortably to.

A strong arm swung her around, and with some fumbling and flailing of her legs, she found herself sitting in a saddle, pressed against Dastan’s back as he charged through the alley. That was a feat in and of itself, considering how large the horse was in the confined space.

And oh, she was on a _horse_!

She’d never been on a horse before, never wanted to – she couldn’t help screaming in terror and tightening her grip around Dastan’s waist as the irrational fear of falling off and getting trampled to death hit her.

‘Hold on!’ Dastan shouted and steered the horse towards the thickest group of guards. Rose wasn’t sure if he was talking about keeping hold of him or the dagger, but that confusion faded into mild terror as they entered the fray and he caused the horse to rear.

The guard surrounding the Doctor shouted loud curses and exclamations of surprise as the presence of the horse caused them to scatter, while others were knocked beneath the beasts strong legs. Rose felt a sick sensation at the feel of a body being trampled under the horse, and desperately tried to think of anything else.

Her eyes sought out the Doctor, needing to make sure it was not him who now lay broken beneath them, and was rewarded when she made out his dark form off to the side, throwing an overeager assailant over his shoulder. 

He looked up, then, met her gaze and his eyes widened. ‘Rose!’

She wanted to call back that she was alright, when Dastan abruptly kicked his heels inward and the horse took off in the opposite direction, people scattering as they charged down the narrow alleyways.

‘No!’ Rose yelled into his ear, then whipped he head to watch in dismay as the Doctor tried to run after them. ‘Doctor?!’

It was a desperate and useless cry, and she knew it even before the word left her mouth. He continued to get farther and farther away from her. She could barely hear him over the din of horse hooves and yelling people, but she thought she imagined him say _I’ll find you!_

Whether he’d said it or not didn’t matter because one of the guards he had been fighting suddenly came up behind him and knocked him swiftly in the head.

‘DOCTOR!’ she shrieked, nearly letting go of Dastan and the dagger as she watched the Doctor crumple to his knees. Only a firm grip on her two wrists held her in place, grounding her thoughts before she could allow panic to rise within her.

‘No – stop! We have to go back!’ she yelled at Dastan, warring with her fear of falling off the horse and wanting to be anywhere but wrapped around the back of a man that had just left the Doctor to certain death.

‘Can’t – we go back, we’re all done for!’ her kidnapper’s voice barely reached her over the horse and the wind and the shouting witnesses.

She clenched her eyes shut against sand and tears, willing herself not to cry. She was to save the world a lot, right? Besides, the Doctor was always going on about his superior biology. He wouldn’t let a blow to the head stop him. He would be fine.

 _He has to be_ , she told herself with desperate firmness. 

And then the city gates and walls were flying past them, and there was silence but for the wind in her hair and the harsh breathing of the horse.

She wasn’t sure how long they rode for, too busy fighting numbness at everything that had just happened. All she knew was that all of a sudden they were slowing down and the world had limited itself to just her, a strange and distrustful thief, and a horse, surrounded by desert on all sides.

‘Let me off!’ she gasped, feeling sick and dizzy. 

‘Fine,’ Dastan said, sliding off the horse with an ease Rose could never manage. He helped her to the ground, and she stumbled a little on weak legs as she took a few steps away from the horse. A vicelike grip encircled her wrist. ‘Hey – don’t go anywhere yet. Give me back the Dagger.’

She stared at the crystal-handled object in her hand unseeingly, and then abruptly pulled away from the Dastan, holding the blade out in front of him threateningly. 

‘You have to bring me back! The Doctor – he’s in trouble and –’

‘Look, just give that here – ‘

He made another swipe for the weapon and out of reflex she turned around and ran. She felt hands scrabble at her back, grabbing her hoodie and then her hair – she shrieked in pain and surprise at that, falling forward as the hands let go, and she hurriedly adjusted her grip on the dagger, so she wouldn’t accidently stab herself when she hit the ground. Her thumb slipped, hitting the bottom of the handle, as the hands holding her briefly let go, she felt something there depress – 

Golden light exploded against the backs of her eyelids, briefly blinding her. It was as if golden tongues of flame were depressing from the jewelled hilt of the dagger, only to trickle away like sand. There was a sudden vacuum of sound, then something like singing filled her ears. It was like a lullaby she had had sung to her as a child but could no longer remember the words or melody to.

Her awareness abruptly narrowed to just herself. Instead of hitting the ground, Rose found herself pulled backwards, but not by any force she could name. Even as the dagger remained clasped in her hands, she felt herself moving, her body being turned back to face Dastan, but it was all happening in slow motion. It was as if her blood itself was flowing backwards within her veins.

He too was moving backwards, retracting her hand from her, his face changing expressions incrementally. 

Then there was a jolt and she was abruptly back recovering from unsteady feet and he was reaching for her. Rose stood there gaping, staring down at the dagger in her hands.

‘Look just give that here – !’

This time, instead of jumping out of the way before he could take it, she let him snatch the weapon back from her, expression drawn in suspicion.

‘I just travelled in time,’ she told him, still feeling a bit stunned. She wasn’t confused, not really – her mind recognized the fact of it, even if the way she had done it was very different from the shuddering flight of the TARDIS. But she was surprised. ‘I just…pressed the button. It was on accident, but…we did this already.’

‘Wonderful,’ Dastan groaned. ‘Now more of the sand’s been wasted.’

‘Sand that can make you travel in time?’ Rose echoed, and then shook her head. ‘This is so the Doctor’s area and not mine.’ An idea occurred to her. ‘Oh my God – this is what did it, isn’t it? You used the dagger to travel in time, and that’s what’s messed the timelines up for the Doctor!’

‘I still have no idea what you’re talking about –’

‘Never mind going back to save him, we have to bring him that dagger,’ Rose declared. ‘He can help – I promise he can help. If you’d explained everything earlier –’

‘There was no time then,’ he snapped. ‘Now leave me alone – if you walk back in that direction, you’ll be able to return to Alamut before nightfall.’

‘Oh, right, great idea – what the hell am I supposed to do after that? I don’t know anyone, and you got my tour guide arrested.’

‘I don’t care. I have bigger problems than yours – and if you enjoy existing, you’d better hope no one ever gets a hold of this dagger who shouldn’t. Trust me.’

‘I don’t.’

‘Another mouthy one,’ he sighed, and then said, ‘Listen to me, woman – I’ve already betrayed my father’s orders and the hospitality of my hosts for the sake of this dagger. If I have to deal with you less than gently, I will. Now stop wasting my time, I need to get out of here before the guard catches up.’

He added something that sounded suspiciously like _again_ and then glowered down at her.

Intense glare or not, his expression wasn’t even half as intimidating as the Doctor could be. The breathlessness her best friend could inspire just by casting those ancient blue eyes on her was the most obvious indicator of the fact he wasn’t human, and when he was angry…

She suppressed a shiver at the memory lest Dastan think it was _him_ she was intimidated by. 

Even if she was very aware that if he decided to get physical with her, he would have an easy time of it. 

_He’s holding off on that though,_ she realized.

Was it possible that – thief who had gotten himself and the Doctor in trouble, aside – he might actually be a good man trying to do the right thing? She had to believe that was the truth, that that was why the Doctor had insisted they help him when they first saw him trying to flee the palace. She hadn’t even questioned his logic then, and she decided she wouldn’t now. If she could trust that the Doctor would be alright on his own, she had to trust that his first instinct to help Dastan had been the right one as well.

Even if it had resulted with them separated and the Doctor probably knocked out somewhere.

Besides, she could either give up the dagger and find herself abandoned in the middle of a desert thousands of years before her birth, with no clue where the TARDIS was or how to get back to the Doctor – or she could try to make friends, help this Dastan bloke and hope he might be able to help her.

‘Okay,’ she managed.

He blinked, obviously having not expected that. 

‘Right…alright then.’ He slipped the dagger in to his belt. ‘Well, goodbye then.’

‘I’m coming with you,’ she informed him.

He snorted. ‘No, you’re not.’

‘Er, yeah, I am.’

‘You’re really not, thought. You’d be a bother. Besides, don’t you need to get back to your friend? What’s it say about your loyalty if you march off with the first man you see? Not that there will be any marching. I’m not interested.’

‘Oh, no you’ve really misread that, mate,’ Rose made a face. ‘I’ve got a boyfriend – and you’re a bit conceited, aren’t you?’

He raised an eyebrow at that and then shrugged, heading back to the horse. ‘So go save him then.’

‘He’s not – the Doctor isn’t – look, I can’t do anything for him on my own!’ Rose protested. ‘Right now, you’re all I’ve got. So if you’re hell-bent on doing whatever it is you’re trying to do, it means you’re not helping me. So I’ll help you and then you take me back to rescue the Doctor.’

‘Look – you are going back, but I’m not taking you. So get going.’

‘It wouldn’t do me any good without the dagger – and if you’re saying it can’t go back there…’ she swallowed, realization coming to her with every word she spoke. ‘If it’s to save the timelines, he – the Doctor wouldn’t forgive me for going back there to save him without trying to save those first.’

She tried to sound firm, in an effort to convince herself as much as him.

‘No,’ he insisted, rummaging around on the packsaddles of the horse and removing what looked small packages of food wrapped in cloth. He began to put these into his robes.

‘I’ll…I’ll just follow you!’

‘Then you’ll die of dehydration in the desert. I don’t care.’

‘Oh, you so would!’ she shot back. ‘Cos you’re a good man. Somewhere…in there…under all the dirt…and you might’ve sacrificed a lot of your own happiness, but I somehow doubt you’d do the same to someone else. On purpose.’

‘Feel free to go on thinking that,’ he retorted, and started to walk away.

‘Still following you – think you’re the first man who figured he could swan off and leave me in a bind?’ she demanded. ‘Hah! Story of my life! And that was even before the Doctor, and he’s the most stubborn person I know and he couldn’t even manage it! I’ll follow you as long as I have to, you know, and just in case you think I’ll be quiet about it? You’ve never met my mother! I can be just as talkative as her, you know, if I have to –’

He whirled around and opened his mouth, probably to say something extremely rude. But the look on his face was so similar to the way the Doctor looked at her when she’d managed to stump his “fool-proof logic” that her heart twinged with both triumph and worry.

Dastan sighed in something like defeat. ‘You’re going to die of heatstroke, dressed as you are.’

‘Guess we’ll have to move fast and get out of the sun, then,’ she told him, decisively. 

‘Who are you two? Your names told me nothing,’ he complained, and she could tell he’d given in. ‘Obviously you’re foreign, but from where?’

‘Well…’ she considered what to tell him and then decided, considering he’d obviously gotten used to the idea of time travelling dagger, he might just be open-minded enough to accept other ideas. ‘You know all about time travel, yeah?’

‘I’m not quite the expert, but yes,’ he shot her a wry look.

‘Yeah, well, if you believe it, we’re time travelers. I’m from about, er…’ she thought about what the Doctor had said about it and did the math in her head. ‘Two-thousand, five-hundred years in the future.’

‘Now _that_ I don’t believe.’

‘I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours,’ Rose offered.

Dastan fixed her with a weighted look, and then nodded. ‘Well, it’s a long walk. I suppose there’s little choice.

‘Hold on – _walk_?’ Rose repeated, eyeing the desert that stretched out beyond them warily. 

‘Yes. They’ll be looking for someone on horseback. Besides, we’ll need less water and can travel farther on foot. The horse would need to rest often,’ he answered. He gave a judgemental once-over. ‘I hope you have comfortable shoes.’

·ΘΣ·

Tamina was in danger of wearing a footpath into the floor of her chambers.

Once the palace had been alerted to the theft – without mentioning exactly what was stolen, of course, in order to keep the Persians out of the loop – the priority had been to bar her into a safe location, in case theft was the only crime to be committed that day.

Every time she heard someone rush past her door, Tamina felt her heart leap into her throat, thinking that she was about to hear news that Dastan had been captured. 

She was obscenely thankful that Shahnaz hadn’t suspected her of any kind of foul play, and though she was guilty for involving her once betrothed in the entire matter, she still kept an ear out for any indication he had managed to escape. 

If anyone could, he could. He was the one who had breached Alamut’s walls and handed them their defeat – and then tried to ensure conquest instead became peace. He had managed to take the Dagger from Shahnaz himself, of course he would escape the city before the Alamutian guards captured him.

 _It sounds as if I’m trying to convince myself_ , she thought biting her lip.

In their short engagement, he had given her an account of what had happened in their vanished timeline, but so much of it seemed unbelievable. Even knowing the metaphysical truths that she did, it was hard for her to trust another person to carry out the duty that she had been destined for.

Even if it was Dastan.

There was a shuffling noise outside the door, and Tamina whirled around, hardly daring to breath lest it be someone telling her the thief had been caught.

Instead Alamut’s aging king, limped into the room.

‘Grandfather!’ she exclaimed, hurrying toward him to lend him her arms. ‘What are you doing out of bed? You are unwell!’

‘My legs still work,’ he pointed out grimly, even as she led him to one of the plush chairs to recline on. ‘And my ears as well. I have heard the black tidings, princess.’

Tamina winced, fully expecting a blistering castigation for her failure to protect the Dagger, or a lecture on her carelessness. 

Instead, he simply made a dismissive gesture, ‘I have come to ensure you are well, given this awful business.’

‘Me?’ she echoed, nonplussed.

‘Of course, my child. To have one whom you had come to care for turn to betrayal…’ he shook his head, and then reached out to pat her on the arm. ‘Do not worry, Tamina. I have no doubt the Dagger will be recovered. We have loyal servants and strong warriors who would give their lives to return it to the right hands.’

Tamina stiffened under her grandfather’s touch, eyeing him from lowered eyes. 

When she was twelve years old, she had tripped with the Dagger in hand during a ceremony. It had been sheathed and wouldn’t have been harmed even if she hadn’t caught it at the last second, but for days the King had railed on her for her carelessness and how she had put everyone at risk with her clumsiness.

 _Now he sits calmly by with while the Dagger has supposedly been stolen_? Tamina thought with a sinking feeling. 

Her grandfather smiled beatifically at her, and the feeling got worse as realization hit.

Whatever was happening to the Guardians, it was affecting her grandfather as well.

Any doubt she had been holding on to before about entrusting Dastan with the Dagger disappeared. She now knew it had not only been the right thing to do, but the best option.

‘Your Majesty! Your Highness!’

They both looked up as Shahnaz hurried through the doors, not waiting to be announced; he did bow to the King however, and give a grudging nod to Tamina.

‘The city guard has apprehended someone in connection with the theft of the Dagger,’ he told them breathlessly.

Tamina felt a moment’s panic that Dastan had been caught, but forced herself to keep her expression neutral. Her grandfather was compromised, and there was no telling how many of the servants or the rest of the royal household might be as well. If they had been spying on her before the theft, they would definitely be watching her reactions now.

‘Is it as you feared?’ she asked Shahnaz. ‘Is it Dastan?’

‘No, princess. A foreigner.’

Relief blossomed.

‘We shall have him brought before us to explain himself,’ Tamina ordered. ‘No harm is to come to him until we question him. He might be able to help us reclaim the Dagger.’

‘Surely there is no need for you to involve yourself in this?’ her grandfather spoke up. ‘Shahnaz can sort out the unpleasant business. You have had a trying day already, princess.’

 _And you are very much not yourself, your majesty,_ she didn’t say. Out loud, she answered, ‘It is my duty as guardian to decide the justice for any who would steal the Dagger. It is bound in law, grandfather, whether my day has been trying or not.’

Shahnaz looked as though he wanted to argue with that – she knew he hadn’t forgiven her for the loss of the Dagger in the first place – but nodded, and told the king, ‘Custom must be observed. Certainly your majesty would agree?’

‘Much about this defies custom,’ her grandfather answered, looking troubled, but he waved a weary hand. ‘Very well. Proceed.’

‘Will you be joining us, grandfather? It is your right, as king.’

‘No. You seem resolved, my child, and the whole matter has tired me,’ he answered. ‘Come and see me once this business is resolved. And promise me, Tamina, that you will rest some?’

‘Of course, grandfather,’ she replied neutrally.

_The king, avoid confronting the man who may have had a hand in stealing the dagger? Why has no one else noticed that something isn’t right?_

She didn’t know what was wrong with her grandfather, but she knew she had to figure it out soon. She only hoped the audience with the possible thief would give her some idea of how to do that.

As Shahnaz escorted her towards the throne room and the king was led away by an attendant, she thought furiously about what could be causing such changes in the Guardians. They were acting out of character, and yet no one seemed to notice except for her – was she the next to succumb to this strange phenomena?

Her grandfather’s lack of concern bothered her especially. What the next thing he lost was his ability to judge the intentions of others? A feeble-minded old man was easier to control than a young woman in full possession of her faculties, after all…

‘Shahnaz, see to it that there’s an extra watch put on my grandfather’s quarters,’ she ordered. ‘And make sure there is someone to watch his behaviour for the next little while.’

He frowned. ‘Why?’

‘Because he is not acting like himself,’ she answered, and then explained the king’s reaction to the Dagger’s theft. ‘I’m worried.’

‘There is definitely something afoot,’ Shahnaz agreed, looking upset. ‘Although…is it perhaps simply old age? Or the strain of this situation with Persia?’

‘Perhaps,’ she allowed, not wanting to elaborate on any of her suspicions just yet.

‘It will be as you say, princess. I vow, we will discover if there is more at stake here than simply a thief trying to make off with our sacred artifact,’ he promised. ‘And on that note…’

He gestured for her to enter the throne room.

She had hardly taken her seat at the throne when a commotion at the entrance way alerted her to the culprit being brought forth. The captain of the Alamutian guards strode forward, followed by two of his men dragging a third.

Tamina wasted no time in confirming to herself that it truly was a foreigner and not Dastan. 

Although relieved, she was now faced with a tough decision. A presumably innocent bystander had been brought here on a charge that might lead to him losing his life. If it meant protecting the Dagger a little longer and buying Dastan a little more time, she would have to let the stranger take the blame.

 _And then his fate will remain forever on my conscience,_ she thought grimly.

She hated decisions like these – becoming the arbitrator of another soul’s fate – but they were part and parcel of ruling a country. She had learned at a young age that a ruler was only as good as their judgement.

She would just have to do her best to judge this fairly, and hopefully she might find a resolution with the least amount of pain for the stranger.

Provided he was innocent, of course. __

The prisoner had obviously been knocked out, because he was shaking his head like someone waking after a short doze.

‘Was unconsciousness a necessary precaution?’ she quipped to the guards. ‘How is he to answer my questions if his brains have been clubbed from his skull?’

‘Apologies, your highness,’ the guards chorused.

The man tried to jerk his shoulders away from them. ‘Not exactly the most hospitable lot, are you? Which is odd, considering the stories I’d always heard about Alamut…’

‘Our hospitality is not extended to those who steal from us, stranger,’ Tamina told him coolly, taking advantage of his lingering disorientation to perform a quick assessment of him.

He was a tall, imposing man with dark, close-cropped hair and clad in odd, heavy black clothing. From his baring, she judged him to be a soldier, and yet he carried no weapon that she could see. As he was forced to kneel, he struggled to keep the guards from forcibly bowing his head, brazenly staring up at her with eyes like lapis lazuli. 

Tamina shivered at the knowing look in them.

‘You highness, this piece of filth was discovered in the black district and impeded our soldiers’ ability to pursue the true thief when he fled through the marketplace,’ the guard captain declared.

‘In doing so he has committed treachery not only to Alamut, but our Persian guests,’ Shahnaz pointed out. ‘One would think it an attempt to jeopardize the peace negotiations! If true, then he will be put to questioning until he reveals to us where his partners fled to.’ He narrowed his eyes at the man. ‘By any means necessary.’ 

‘Excuse you, I’m just a mostly innocent by-stander in all of this,’ the man protested. ‘Wrong place, wrong time, that sort of thing. If anything, I’m the victim here – had my companion stolen from me and everything. So if we can get this bit sorted, I’d rather like to go look for her.’ He shot Shahnaz an irritated look. ‘Might well find whoever it is you’re looking for, too. I bet I’m just as motivated as you lot.’

‘ _That_ is doubtful,’ Shahnaz bit out.

‘I believe him,’ Tamina said.

‘Your _Highness_ …?’ her cousin looked to be suffering from apoplexy.

‘Note, Shahnaz, I did not say that I would completely absolve him of guilt,’ she continued calmly. ‘As you say, he was discovered in an untoward corner of our city – and in the company of potentially questionable individuals. But consider the man before you jump to conclusions in your haste.’ 

She gesture to his attire. 

‘His clothing is not native, and the way he speaks – like one of the Saka up North,’ she went on. ‘Yet he travels alone. Saka usually come in droves, bringing war and blood in their wake. Yet you, stranger, you are all but alone. And unarmed. A sign he has left his people behind, as well as an indication he does not court trouble.’

The man was looking at her now with something like appraisal. She had the oddest sense that she had been judged by someone important, and grudgingly passed muster.

She opened her mouth to demand his identity – perhaps he was some foreign dignitary that had been caught up in a misunderstanding? – when someone hurried into the throne room. A Persian servant, by the clothing.

‘His Majesty, Cyrus the Great, King of the Four Corners of the World, approaches!’ the boy squeaked out, before running off.

 _Oh, of course, because that is all we need_ , Tamina thought sourly. _I suppose I should be glad he didn’t drag out his full titles, or we might all die of boredom._

‘That means his entire entourage will be with him,’ she grumbled crossly to Shahnaz, letting her composed façade slip the slightest bit. ‘Our honored guest is beginning to forget himself. This is an Alamutian matter, and not for Persia to concern itself with.’

But Shahnaz was looking at the man on his knees with a look of dogged dislike. ‘Perhaps not – tell me, stranger –’

‘I’ve got a name, you know,’ the man groused. He waved. ‘Hello, I’m the Doctor.’

The irreverence had the peculiar effect of making her want to smile, and she covered this by fixing him with an imperious glare. ‘Doctor, then. ‘If it is as you say, and your companion was abducted, why not plead assistance from the guards to find her?’

‘Would’ve done, if they hadn’t been hell-bent on attacking me,’ he replied. ‘Completely ignored the man taking her and surrounded me.’

‘What did the man look like?’ Shahnaz demanded, and Tamina’s stomach clenched as the man provided a concise yet all-to recognizable description of Dastan. 

‘Do you hear, princess? We have a witness no!’ Shahnaz declared, elated. ‘Now if only we could –’

But he fell silent as the doors to the throne room were pulled open once more.

The Persians entered with their usual pomp and circumstance, the king flanked on all sides by his loyal minions and guards. Tamina rose to greet him, and gestured to one of her servants to bring a seat for the foreign king. Unwanted though his presence may be, she was still required to act cordially. 

‘You Highness – we had heard tell of a disturbance within your hallowed home, and chose to lend our support,’ Sharaman declared, striding forward to take her hand before she had even offered it. ‘As our two houses are soon to be united, I thought it best to be present.’

‘You are too kind – but truly, this is an Alamutian matter –’

‘Your Majesty, we have been given testimony that Prince Dastan was seen fleeing the city, likely after stealing a most precious Alamutian artifact!’ Shahnaz spoke up, eyes glinting wildly. ‘Is it custom in your land to send your people to rob from their hosts?’

‘Shahnaz!’ Tamina cried out, dismayed at the outburst.

She could tell that Sharaman wasn’t impressed either, because he drew himself up to full height and glowered at her cousin. ‘Bring me your so-called witness, Alamutian. See if he would dare give such lying testimony in the face of the King of Kings.’

Discontent crackled within the room, and Tamina knew she had to put a stop to it or risk angering both parties. 

‘Silence, Shahnaz!’ Tamina snapped. 

She didn’t even have to pretend anger. Displeasing the visiting monarch was more than unwise at this juncture. She inclined her head to the king in question. ‘Forgive my cousin, your majesty, he occasionally forgets his place. Of course, accusations will not be formally made until we have heard the entire story and the evidence that comes with it.’

‘As you say, princess,’ Sharaman agreed tightly. ‘Neither of us wish for renewed discord between our two peoples.’

There was the barest hint of a threat there, and they both knew it.

‘Are there any men present who actually witnessed the theft?’ Tamina asked, hoping against hope that there wasn’t. Dastan had been so quick when he left, but if someone had seen…

‘This man, princess,’ the captain of the guard spoke up, gesturing to one of his men who had been waiting in the shadows, ‘It was because of him we were able to follow the thief so far into the city. He swears by the gods that this man was there as well – along with a fair-skinned woman – and they helped the thief escape.’

‘Well, there you are,’ Sharaman spoke up. ‘If this is your man, there is no need to continue to slander my son.’

The young guard shifted uncomfortably. ‘The thief was Prince Dastan, majesty.’

The Persian king rounded on the kneeling man.

‘You will tell us this instant what business you have here, foreigner, and what trouble you have brought my son into! I can fathom no other reason for my son to act so out of character than having been ensorcelled,’ Sharaman hissed. ‘Believe me when I say I will allow whatever means necessary to drag the truth from your lips.’

Rather than seem upset or worried by the king’s threat, the Doctor instead seemed calm.

He leveled a grave stare upon Sharaman. ‘Your son is attempting, in his own very human and wrong-footed way, to ensure you stay alive, your majesty. Bit futile, though, when you should’ve died a few months ago. Your eldest son should be on the throne right now, not you.’

Silence reigned in the throne room, and Tamina felt absolute disbelief at what the foreigner had just said.

It was tantamount to a threat, but there was something else in the way he had said it…

She couldn’t ruminate on his words too long, though, because in typical Persian fashion, one of Sharaman’s sycophants leapt to his feet, sword aimed at the foreigner’s head in what she knew would be an attempt to defend the king’s honor.

Tamina needed to think fast if she didn’t want the strange man’s blood staining the tapestries.

· P ·


End file.
